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#they survived and got out
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 21 days
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Don't Wormy About Me.
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"Probably because they don't have a grave," Danny said, pulling out his vape. "Final resting places are--HEY!"
Nightwing held the pilfered vape above his head. "Where did you get this?" he asked, scandalized.
Danny jumped for it, but Nightwing was too tall! Even at 5'7 he'd have to use his powers to reach the vape; he had no chance as a 9 year old. "We're in Gotham! You're lucky I didn't get cocaine instead!"
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saturdaysky · 7 months
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you lose sight of it, somehow, when you consort with gods: how fragile mortals are, and how precious.
[gale of waterdeep & my pc, mayhew of nowhere in particular]
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nelkcats · 8 months
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Fenton Street Food
"You know what's better than being a superhero? A street food vendor! Yes, superheroes can save the day, stop villains and receive hatred or admiration as the case may be, but a street vendor? They are at the heart of the action, fulfilling their dreams! They traveled the world feeding the masses, and even met superheroes, feeding them to keep them doing their duty, food carts are the centerpiece of keeping the heroes alive, they are the heroes..."
Maybe if Danny repeated it enough times he'd start to believe it, though seeing the monstrosity that was the Fenton food cart he highly doubted it. More so because it had fucking guns hidden next to the mutant and very alive Hot dogs (which by the way were not sellable, they were the mascots of the brand).
It all started when Jack Fenton talked about his dream of delivering his favorite food around the world, that fueled Maddie Fenton's idea, and since Jazz was in college and Danny was on vacation no one could stop them.
Soon Danny became a victim of his parents' eccentricities. Although the halfa had to admit that selling in Gotham was a lot of fun, thieves didn't think it was worth mugging him and the Rogues themselves bought his food of dubious origins.
It was almost a shame to have to change cities because Batman was getting too suspicious but Metropolis was waiting for him. And he would be back eventually; some bats who had enjoyed his strange roving food stall had waved him off with handkerchiefs, wiping away fake tears. Danny appreciated it.
Besides, Red Robin affirmed to him that he would recommend him to Superboy, so he wouldn't run out of customers anytime soon. He wondered if he should stop by Central City, the Flash Family ate a lot didn't they?
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ryssbelle · 2 months
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Clay's design for this lil thing, including Viva cuz these two are practically inseparable.
Viva was the one who pulled him away from the cave in time and Clay helped her guide all the trolls to safety and kept her grounded
They both help each other in many ways and I love them so much. Idk if you can tell but i love Cliva
Bonus little comic about these little guys and their little thoughts:
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mokadevs · 3 months
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well, that's okay! it was going to happen eventually!
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2sw · 7 months
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You have one card today. But we’ll find another tomorrow. But if you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow.
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yrdnzz · 5 months
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> the scent of a goal.
on twitter | on instagram
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arsonforcharlie · 2 months
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Can we see Pigeon again? It's been too long!
it's been 4 days you animals
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salthien · 2 months
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bugs. gay ones, even
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wearenotjustnumbers2 · 5 months
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This is the devastating reality in gaza.
Even if children don't lose their lives during the bombing, they lose their limbs, their loved ones. You know how many kids who lost their legs loved playing football? How many loved to run and walk and ride a bike? How many lost their arms who can no longer feel it, no longer wear a bracelet around their wrist? There are kids who lost their eyesight due to the bombing And getting crushed under the rubble. Keep demanding a ceasefire, this should not still be happening. 44th day.
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rassicas · 6 months
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I'm not counting a player character that you made and never thought about further. i mean like. It can be your player character but at least one that has a name (or you intend to name) and some semblance of a story that you've thought about. bonus points if you've been continuously using this character for several years
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starry-bi-sky · 23 days
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my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out
and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.
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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 
Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.
He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 
Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 
Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  
He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 
Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 
He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 
He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  
He has no mouth, but he must scream. 
Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 
Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 
Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 
Scrappy is just not enough. 
He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 
Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 
But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 
Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 
He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 
Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.
Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 
Being dead is agony. 
Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 
His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 
In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 
Being dead hurts. 
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clownsuu · 7 months
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Hi hello, would you look at that, huh! Saw this lil fella on our backyard a dozen times already.. he looked lonely and it's getting cold here, so maybe I should take him in -
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You seem to know a thing or two about bugs and I never seen one like this! So I thought I could ask for advice, like is he the friendly kind at all?
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(Couldn't take much pictures cuz he kept wiggling around 😔😔)
I G A S P E D
THE LITTLEST OF GUYS
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erynalasse · 2 months
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I wonder when the Noldor looked around at their dwindling numbers and realized that they were dying faster than they could ever keep up with.
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braisedhoney · 9 months
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g… get it, he’s… he’s a phantom drifter… heheh…. Ha…
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